


Nothing To Be Sorry For

by tara_duchess_of_nil



Category: Downton Abbey
Genre: Intercrural Sex, M/M, thomas' meaty thighs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-17
Updated: 2015-02-17
Packaged: 2018-03-13 10:18:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3377837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tara_duchess_of_nil/pseuds/tara_duchess_of_nil
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There was a discussion on tumblr about Thomas' thighs and this is the resulting smut.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nothing To Be Sorry For

“I—I—can’t. I’m so …. I’m … s-s-s-orry.”

Jimmy was on his knees, his voice caught in his throat, the vial of oil in his hand practically branding its silhouette into his palm, he clutched it so tightly.

Thomas lay on his back underneath him, looking up at the younger man with such desperation and excitement, lust and love. His knees pulled up to his chest, hands shaking yet still gripping his shins. Open. Ready. 

Thomas had begged his new lover in a tight whisper in between heated gasps just a moment before … Come inside me … fuck me … please … Christ, Jimmy … I need it … I need you.

Jimmy could now only shake his head no, his mouth open in shock at his sudden lack of bottle. He swore he could do it, he swore he wanted it as much as Thomas but when faced with the reality of Thomas right there, sweating and pleading and trembling, he just couldn’t do it.

Thomas released his hold on his legs and sighed. He had been afraid that Jimmy wasn’t ready; he couldn’t possibly be ready but the footman had talked of nothing else. When they were rutting against each other through their trousers in the china closet, Jimmy uttered the most filthy things he could think of to Thomas, with being unable to sit for a week being one of the more mild threats. And Thomas should have known that it was mostly talk, and he was now mentally kicking himself for thinking that the younger man was willing to take the next step so soon. 

Thomas held out his hand and Jimmy looked at it dumbly.

“Let me take that,” Thomas said softly, and then Jimmy shook his head as if stirring up cobwebs and dropped the vial into Thomas’ hand.

“C’mere, love,” Thomas sat up and gently grabbed Jimmy’s forearms and pulled him down onto the bed beside him so that they were both on their sides facing each other. Thomas brushed a strand of blond hair from Jimmy’s eyes and then touched his hip lightly, tracing the sharpness that he had wanted under his fingers for so long.

“I’m sorry. I truly am,” Jimmy sniffed and wiped his nose with the back of his hand. “I really, I don’t know what … I don’t know I was thinking.”

“Shhhh. It’s alright,” Thomas said. “It doesn’t need to happen tonight.” 

The next words that tripped over his lips surprised him, “Or ever.”

Jimmy smiled weakly and reached out to rake his fingers through Thomas’ chest hair. The older man looked down and inhaled sharply, then immediately cursed himself for being so needy and so desperate for this boy who had become his friend and then after months of gentle teasing, long conversations into the early hours of the morning, and several bottles of wine, had finally become his lover.

“I still … want you,” Jimmy said tentatively, and looked at Thomas through his eyelashes, a move which had always driven the man mad with desire. “Very much so. Yes.”

Thomas leaned in to place a very soft kiss onto Jimmy’s full lips and fought the urge to force his way past them with his tongue, although he was dying for more contact, more closeness but Jimmy was so hesitant at times that it was both frustrating and intoxicating. 

“You know I want you too, Jimmy. God, I have for so long,” Thomas said into Jimmy’s mouth with an ache in his voice he couldn’t hide. He was tired of hiding but that was the game the younger man continued to play.

Jimmy inched his hips closer to Thomas, gripping the scattering of dark chest hair. He then let his hand trickle down slowly over the older man’s soft belly, skirting past his cock that was beginning to harden and down to his inner thigh. 

(Thomas knew he would never tire of Jimmy’s nocturnal explorations of his body, as if somehow with the lights down low, he could actually see more with his fingers than his eyes allowed. One time, Jimmy had taken nearly half the night gently mapping the shell of Thomas’ ear and his strong jawline, leaving the older man a quivering mess.)

Jimmy stroked the smooth pale flesh of Thomas’ thigh reverently and whispered, “I love this here. Can feel your muscles tensing.”

Thomas tried to steady his breathing.

“Do you like this?” Jimmy murmured, his caresses still agonizingly light. “You’re stronger than you look,” he added with a slight snort.

“Mmm hmmm,” Thomas said tightly, managing to swallow a grunt.

“Where’s the oil?” Jimmy asked suddenly. Thomas fished around on the bed for it and found the vial under the pillow and handed it to Jimmy, watching his face carefully. Jimmy removed the cork and poured some of it into his palm, (quite a bit more came flowing out than he expected) and the lavender scent quickly engulfed the footman’s small room. 

Jimmy put his oiled palm onto Thomas’ inner thigh and began massaging it, his bottom lip caught between his teeth in concentration. Thomas looked down at his slick skin in wonder; Jimmy’s tan fingers a sharp contrast against his own paleness. 

Thomas’ cock throbbed with every stroke of the footman’s hand but he resisted the urge to tug on its angry red tip and cupped the back of Jimmy’s neck instead, bringing their foreheads together.

“Can we be closer?” Thomas said quietly. “I want you against me, is that alright?”

Jimmy responded by pushing his body toward him.

“Can I do something for you, Jimmy? Something I know you’ll like.”

Jimmy paused for a moment, swallowed and replied a simple, “Yes.”

Thomas tried to hide a smile and reached down slowly and took Jimmy’s half-hard cock into his hand, then placed it carefully between his oil-slicked thighs; his own cock pressed upwards between their two bellies. He reached over and grasped Jimmy’s hip and pulled on it slightly.

“I need you to move like this,” Thomas ordered softly and Jimmy obliged with a groan.

Jimmy thrust his hips slowly back and forth as Thomas tensed his thigh muscles around his cock. The footman’s head lolled backwards and he hissed at the heat and the dizzying sensation, then he rolled toward Thomas so that their foreheads were touching again.

“That’s it, love. Keep going,” Thomas gently encouraged and added with a hitched breath, “Oh, Christ.”

Jimmy held on to Thomas’s upper arm as he increased the speed of his hips, the only sounds in the room being the thick, muffled slap of oiled skin on skin and Jimmy’s soft whimpers.

Jimmy moved his hand to Thomas’ neck and lifted his head to kiss him hungrily. As he broke off the kiss to moan loudly he added, “God, Thomas. I love you.”

“I love you too, Jimmy,” Thomas replied happily, then tensed his thigh muscles a bit more. (He was going to be sore tomorrow—and most likely the day after that—for sure.)

“Ahhhhhhhh, god. I’m so sorry for …”

“You’ve nothing … nothing to be s-s-sorry for, my … my love,” Thomas managed to stutter out as rolled his hips upwards to gain more friction for his own cock squeezed tightly between them. “We have. We have forever, you … you and I.”

Jimmy’s hand slipped from Thomas’ arm as both men sweated and groaned. Jimmy dug his fingernails into Thomas hip and started thrusting faster and faster.

“I love you … love you … love you … love you …” Jimmy began to cry out over and over again, the friction and the heat building between the two lovers.

Thomas put a shaky hand over the younger man’s mouth and shushed him. 

“I knew you’d be loud, my darling boy,” Thomas laughed softly, then added with a more than touch of pride in his voice, “And I love you for it.”

Jimmy could no longer form words and could only grunt and whimper as the vise that Thomas’ thighs had become grew tighter and tighter around his aching prick. He felt the familiar coil in his belly unwind as he came over and over again between Thomas’ thighs.

The rush of hot sticky liquid onto his skin quickly drove Thomas to the edge and he came with a moan and Christ and Jimmy’s names on his lips.

The two lay together, tangled in a heaving mess of skin, sweat, come and oil, and Jimmy, who just months before, would have been horrified at the filth that engulfed him, ran his fingers between Thomas’ sticky thighs and up toward his entrance. He circled it slowly and the older man flinched in delight.

“Now where were we?” Jimmy asked innocently.

Thomas exhaled an exaggerated sigh, and didn’t even try to hide his grin.


End file.
